


Hand and Heart

by danceswithgary



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Episode Related, First Time, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-09
Updated: 2010-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before John could start the movie and avoid any awkward discussions, Teyla asked, "I am curious, Major. What did you mean when you mentioned a 'woodshed' in the today's meeting?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand and Heart

[  
Click for Full Size](http://pics.livejournal.com/danceswithgary/pic/001f5h9a)

  


**Hand and Heart******

  
Slinging his laptop onto the conference room table, Rodney plopped into his chair and grumbled, "That was a complete waste of my extremely valuable time, Elizabeth. I only detected one potential energy source, and it turned out to be inaccessible due to some archaic and illogical belief system."

Sitting opposite the disgruntled man, John clenched his fist and bit back his initial response to the complaint. Once again, Rodney's refusal to listen and obey orders had placed him in jeopardy, and only Teyla's negotiating skills had saved Rodney from a disagreeable penalty. Thankful that the mission hadn't turned into one requiring running and gunfire, John limited himself to a snide, "Personally, I'm beginning to think the Mildrans had the right idea, McKay. Too bad Atlantis doesn't have a woodshed."

Ignoring Ford's snort of laughter, Elizabeth cleared her throat and asked evenly, "Am I to assume that we won't be doing any trading with the inhabitants of M34-17K?"

"I am afraid not, Dr. Weir. Although I was able to convince the Mildran elders that Dr. McKay meant no disrespect and to forgo their usual punishment, they were not willing to trade at this time." Teyla's voice was calm, although John thought he detected an edge of irritation as she expanded on her statement. "However, I believe that if you and I return with a different team, the Mildrans would be willing to reconsider their position."

Since John's main difficulty with the mission had been his refusal to allow anyone but him to discipline members of his team, even if it had only been ten swats with a wooden paddle, he agreed with Teyla. When Elizabeth turned her attention to him, John smiled weakly and shrugged. "Teyla's the one who worked it all out, she knows what to avoid in the future. As long as you take at least four of my men with you, I don't have any objection to you trying again. We need the food, as well as another possible evacuation site."

Elizabeth considered for a moment before nodding. "Well then, I guess that's settled. Teyla, why don't you stay and help me work out a tentative schedule. Major, I'll expect a detailed report by the end of the day to help me make my decision. Gentlemen?"

John took the hint and lost no time leaving the meeting, ignoring Rodney's, "Major?" to head for his office and figure out how to write a mission report without using the oxymoronic phrase, 'idiot of a genius.' He was already having a tough enough time dealing with the surge of rage that rolled over him every time he thought about someone laying a hand on Rodney, that is, someone other than himself.  
. . .  
John should have known avoiding the subject wasn't going to be possible. Team movie night usually resulted in questions and explanations of Tau'ri culture and customs, and that night was no exception. Before John could start the movie and avoid any awkward discussions, Teyla asked, "I am curious, Major. What did you mean when you mentioned a 'woodshed' in the today's meeting?"

John was thankful that Ford stepped in to explain. "It used to be what your parents might say, well where they would take you for a…private spanking. Kind of an old-fashioned thing."

"I see. Your people have a wooden place set aside for discipline, while the Mildrans impose theirs in the public square."

Rodney huffed, but didn't say a word, leaving any correction to Teyla's assumption up to Ford and John.

Ford tried again. "Not really, it's pretty much just a saying, to 'take someone out to the woodshed' because they'd been bad. These days, not many people actually have a shed that holds wood for fires." He smiled and admitted with a chuckle, "My grandpa sure didn't need to take me anywhere special to punish me. He'd take his belt to me right then and there. I learned pretty quick not to sass him and Grandma."

"So it may be used as a warning." Teyla thought for a moment and then shared her own story in return. "The Athosians rarely strike anyone for punishment, especially not children. I can only recall one time my father resorted to a slap across my…" She waved her hand behind herself with a smile. "I was young and foolish and had refused to come in from the fields when he called. He then asked me if I knew why he had done so and, when I answered that I had been misbehaving, he corrected me. He explained that it was to ensure that I paid attention to his words, and then he reminded me of the Wraith and how important it might be one day to obey his directions without question." She tilted her head in John's direction and asked, "And you, Major?"

"My parents weren't big on corporal punishment either." John shrugged, his memories hazy with time and distance. "I spent a lot of time in my room, went without supper a couple of times."

Ford grinned and pointed at Rodney. "How about you, Doc?"

Rodney was looking away from them and John repeated the question, knowing that Rodney sometimes became preoccupied with some problem while the rest of them where talking. He teasingly prodded, "Hey, McKay. What was your worst?"

Keeping his face turned away, Rodney snapped back, "You're assuming that my parents cared enough about what I did to discipline me, Major. Now, are we watching a movie or not, because I have plenty to do in my lab otherwise."

Although John's answer was to start the movie, he didn't ignore Rodney's reaction to the conversation, and he tucked it away to think about later, when he was alone.  
. . .  
"Come on."

Standing just outside the infirmary, Rodney looked down at the clenched white grip around his elbow and protested, "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

"Just shut up and follow me, McKay. Now." Forcing himself to release Rodney before he hurt him, John turned away and began walking down the hall toward the nearest transporter. His anger over their most recent mission was obviously apparent enough to convince Rodney that it was better not to argue, and he followed a few paces behind John with only an unintelligible grumble or two.

Two transporters and three turns later they were in an unoccupied section of the Western Tower. John led Rodney into one of the rooms and locked the door behind them. There was nothing very extraordinary about the room, it held the standard furniture; bed, dresser, desk. There was also a long and sturdy padded bench against one wall, which John had appropriated from one of the larger suites with a specific purpose in mind after the team's conversation about punishments and a more-than-slightly embarrassing talk with Teyla about Rodney's need for recognition.

John noted that the fifteen-minute walk appeared to have restored the chip on Rodney's shoulder. He stood in the center of the room with his arms crossed and glared at John while demanding, "Okay, I'm here. Are you going to use your words to tell me what's going on, or are we going to resort to something ridiculous like charades?"

Taking off his belt and gun, John set them on the desk before picking up a pillow from the bed and taking a seat in the middle of the bench. Arranging the pillow next to him, he leaned back, crossed his arms, and then drawled, "This place? It's a woodshed."

"A what?" John knew Rodney had heard him. The slight quaver in Rodney's voice betrayed his nervousness. "I don't…."

John kept his tone even, despite the anger and frustration that tried to take over. "You keep making the same mistakes out there, McKay. Talking to you isn't working, neither is giving you direct orders. It's time for something different."

"I thought…you were joking that day, Sheppard!" Dropping his arms, Rodney began backing up to the door, even as he continued to protest. "You can't just arbitrarily decide to beat me! You…you have no right!"

"As military commander and your team leader, I'm responsible for disciplinary actions."

"Exactly! I'm a civilian!" Rodney waved a hand dismissively as he turned and stomped over to the door.

John let some of his aggravation free and leaned forward to thunder back, "Civilian or not, as long as you're on my team, you're under my authority!"

At the door, Rodney waved his hand several times over a panel that refused the request, and then turned back to John, his chin held high in defiance. "And if I refuse?"

"Then you're off the damn team, McKay. Yes, we need you with us but, the way it stands, you're a danger to yourself and everyone else because you won't listen to instructions and you won't take orders in the field. Ford's spending the night in the infirmary because you decided to inform whoever would listen just how smart you are. _Again_."

Rodney's chin dipped. "I…I'm sorry for that." His tone was contrite, but John had heard the same apology before and it wasn't enough this time. Rodney needed to learn how to work with the team before it was too late. John wasn't going to lose another friend if he could help it, especially Rodney.

"Then come here." Uncrossing his arms, John gestured Rodney closer. "Let's get this over with, McKay." John watched the play of conflicting emotions cross Rodney's face; anger, remorse, stubbornness and fear, and he hoped that Rodney would choose the team over his pride, for all their sakes. "It'll be ten to start, the same as the the Mildrans sentenced you to that day, but without a paddle."

Hands clenched at his sides, Rodney slowly approached John. "To start?"

"How many more is kind of up to you, isn't it?" John shook his head, and then patted his thighs to indicate where he expected Rodney to be. "Come on, you know what to do."

"I…." Rodney shook his head. "I…I've never…."

After Rodney's earlier confession, John had suspected that was the case, but he hadn't been certain. "Drop your pants and lie down on the bench across my legs. You can pull your boxers down after that."

"Bare?" Rodney voice trembled and he swallowed hard before asking, "Are you going to use your…."

"My hand. Yes." John tried not to sound impatient but, the longer Rodney delayed, the more John questioned whether he'd made the right decision. He cared about Rodney, probably too much considering John's responsibility to him and the team, and he was wondering if he'd already fucked up what they had together, and hoping that he hadn't.

Slowly, Rodney unbuttoned as directed, then knelt on the bench before allowing his pants to drop to mid-thigh. After arranging his torso across John's thighs, he squirmed a few times in order to pull his blue cotton boxers down far enough to expose the pale flesh of his buttocks, all the while grumbling about his back. Wanting Rodney to control his own position and exposure, John didn't offer to help beyond steadying Rodney when he almost tipped off the bench. When Rodney finally settled down with his arms and head supported by the folded pillow, the feel of Rodney's taut muscles quivering against John's thighs, the warmth of his skin even through John's BDU's was startling, and he twitched when Rodney blurted, "Well?"

"One." With no further preliminaries, John raised his hand and slammed it down, the crack as his palm connected shockingly loud in the otherwise silent room. Rodney jumped and yelped, and John flushed when he saw the faint pink marks left behind when he raised his hand for the second blow. "Two. Three." He swatted once, twice more and Rodney cried out at each, but John knew it was more surprise than pain because the skin under his hand was still barely pink.

"Four. Five." Two more a little lower and Rodney was silent through those, and John thought he could feel Rodney relaxing against him. He stopped and rested his palm against the lightly reddened skin and easily detected the difference in temperature between it and the untouched portions of Rodney's pale smooth cheeks. A sudden realization that he wanted more jolted through John, and he had to take a deep breath to settle himself before he could ask softly, "Do I have your attention now?"

Rodney's breath hitched and John could feel Rodney's muscles tighten again before he snapped back, "What? Are you kidding me?"

"Six." The strike was a little harder and prompted another yelp. "I'm waiting for an answer, Rodney."

"Yes, damn it!" As if realizing his attitude wasn't supporting his claim, Rodney's next assurance was quieter and much more polite. "Yes, you have my attention."

John sighed and rested his hand against the tender skin, and his BDU's became substantially tighter when Rodney pressed up slightly into John's palm before relaxing a fraction. "Good. This is important, Rodney. You need to pay attention to your team when we're out there. You need to listen to what we have to say and follow our directions."

John felt Rodney stiffen and expected a protest, but Rodney didn't say a word and instead surprised John by relaxing completely with a sigh. Encouraged by Rodney's apparent desire to cooperate and the signals he was sending, John rewarded him with a gentle caress along his softly rounded curves, saying, "That goes both ways. We know how good you are at what you do, and we'll make sure to pay attention to you, too. You don't need to tell everyone what a genius you are. I know who you are, Rodney. I _see_ you."

Reluctantly raising his hand, John warned, "Seven," and delivered the next swat hard enough to feel it through to his own thighs, yet Rodney barely moved and made no sound. "Eight. Nine." Two more that were fast, but not as hard, and John felt Rodney shift and something prodded the outside of his thigh. Rodney moved again, and then John was certain what was happening and he wanted Rodney's punishment to be over so that they could move on to something new.

Pausing with his hand raised for what he hoped was the last swat, John asked, "Are we okay, Rodney?"

"Ye…yes."

John had to strain to hear Rodney, but the answer had been what he'd hoped for and he delivered the final with a sharp crack. "Ten." He tenderly cupped the warm flesh and gently rubbed Rodney's back with his other hand for a few moments before urging him up with a teasing, "Come on. Get up. I don't want you complaining about your back any more than usual."

Rodney scrambled backwards, keeping his face averted from John as he yanked his boxers and pants up with a hiss. John rose to help him to his feet, and then attempted to still Rodney's hands as they scrabbled at buttons, awkward with Rodney's erection in the away. "Hey, hey. Take it easy."

"I…." Holding onto his pants with one hand, Rodney waved the other as he looked anywhere but into John's face. "I should…."

Grabbing Rodney's hand, John flattened it against his own embarrassing response. "No. _We_ should."

Rodney froze for a moment, and then he finally lifted his head to look at John with surprise-widened eyes, his face still flushed and slightly sweaty from earlier. "Oh. You…and me."

"Yeah." John smiled, but then he ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, it's just there's the whole…uh…negative reinforcement…thing, though, if this is what you…uh like." Having finished the much easier punishment and leadership speeches, John struggled not to give into his usual inability to talk about feelings. "I mean that I…I want to give you…whatever you need, but…."

"No, no. I understand. I do. This could…you know…whenever I _did_ pay attention to whatever you told me to do and didn't screw things up. I mean we both enjoy regular sex too…right?" Rodney grinned when John nodded. "And I get a reward system. Genius here." Rodney gestured toward his incredible brain, completely forgetting that hand had been holding up his pants, and John ended up chuckling at the sight of Rodney with his pants by his knees, one hand still firmly plastered against John's crotch and the other pointing at his temple.

Grabbing the waistband of Rodney's pants, John steered him back toward the bed, letting the pants fall before carefully lowering Rodney to the bed. With a yelp, Rodney rolled to his side and kicked off his shoes and then his pants, while John removed his own boots and pants before joining Rodney on the bed. After they were both safely lying on their sides facing each other, John reached out to brush back a few stray wisps of Rodney's hair and asked, "Okay?" When Rodney nodded, John leaned forward to brush his lips across Rodney's and then asked, "Still okay?"

"We are never going to get anywhere at this rate." Rolling his eyes, Rodney reached out impatiently and dragged John in for a deep kiss, his attitude as overwhelmingly arrogant as usual, proving to John that he hadn't broken Rodney and that his sex life, along with a lot of other things, was definitely going to improve from here on in.  
. . .  
"You're wrong, Radek! Not only that, but for you to make these ridiculous claims when I am just about to make a Nobel Prize-winning breakthrough smacks of nothing but professional jealousy!"

John had been listening to Radek and Rodney arguing over the radio about the possibility of exotic particles causing a catastrophic overload, when John suddenly realized what was happening. It had been months since Rodney had last fallen into his old habit of insult to override counterarguments, and its reappearance set off alarm bells for John.

"Fine! I wash my hands of you, Rodney. Go ahead. Kill yourself, just like the Ancients did!"

Busy setting his up his equipment, Rodney refused to respond to Radek's declaration, but John had no qualms. "Hey, back up a bit. What's all this about killing ourselves?"

"Colonel, I believe if the overload is allowed to continue, the weapon acts as a sort of release valve to prevent catastrophic containment failure. The Ancients barely managed to shut it down, and they lost their lives in the process."

"And you can prove this, Radek?"

Rodney left off his typing long enough to bluster, "Of course, he can't!"

"I'll talk to you in a minute, Rodney." John raised a hand warning Rodney to settle down before repeating his question. "Can you prove your point, Radek?"

"It is my opinion based on my analysis of the accident data. It is an analysis that was not complete at the time the decision was made to try again."

John nodded even though he knew only Rodney could see him. "Understood. Listen, give us a few minutes to talk this over and we'll get back to you, Elizabeth, Radek."

"All right, John. Ten minutes."

As John had suspected, Rodney went on an immediate offensive. "I don't believe you, Sheppard. You said you trusted me!"

"I do trust you, Rodney. That's not the point. It's whether or not _you_ trust your science team." Keeping his voice even, John fell back to what had worked in the past, what they'd worked out together that first time and each time since. "I need to be sure that you're really listening to what your team is saying, Rodney. Are you?"

By the time John finished, Rodney's face had lost all expression and his voice was coolly bitter when he responded. "Hunh. So all this is supposedly about me being on a team? You could have fooled me."

Thrown off balance by the accusation, John could only say, "Rodney? What?"

Arms folded across his chest, chin high, every one of his old defenses in place, Rodney sneered, "Where was my so-called team when Ford had a gun pointed at me? Oh, that's right. You handed me off to someone who couldn't understand why you hadn't shot me."

"Jesus, that's not…." John reeled under the flood of Rodney's anger and his own regrets, the knowledge that Rodney was at least partially right. Before John could reach out, Rodney battered him with more resentment left to fester for too long.

"I think you stopped seeing me when Ford left. Oh, sure we still slept together once or twice a week…when you weren't too tired from checking out the latest rumor about Ford or training with your new best friend Conan. But as far as being on your team…you even agreed with a criminal when he said that I always pretend something is impossible so I can look like a hero when I manage to make it work."

"No, Rodney. You're wrong." John stopped himself, realizing he was only compounding his mistakes, the experiment's risks forgotten with the impending destruction of what they'd had together. "I mean, I'm sorry. I was wrong to…."

John took a few steps toward Rodney, reaching out, but Rodney backed away, betrayal carved in every line of his body. "Now, when I'm not saying it's impossible, when I have a chance to prove that you can still trust me and that I deserve to be on your team…."

"Stop. Just stop!" John closed the distance between them and pulled Rodney into his arms, used his mouth to halt the words that threatened to cut John to shreds. Rodney struggled for a few moments before melting against John as much as their tac vests would allow, letting John inside and softening the kiss from bitter to sweet. When John finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against Rodney's and whispered, "I'm so sorry that I stopped seeing you for a while, but I'm here now and I'm not going to let it happen again."

Rodney didn't say a word, which worried John. Taking a step back, he watched Rodney's eyes as he asked, "Rodney? Are we going to die here trying to prove something that you and I already know?"

When Rodney turned away, John thought he'd lost, but then he realized that Rodney was packing away his equipment. Rodney worked silently for another minute or two before he gave John a hint about what he'd decided to do with John's apology and promise. "Well, are you just going to stand there, Colonel? I have to go through Radek's data and rip his analysis to shreds before tonight."

After a wave of relief swept through him, John couldn't help teasing a little. "Before tonight, hunh? Got any plans?"

Rodney slapped two laptops against John's chest and began climbing the ladder out of the facility. When he reached the top, he called back down, sending John scrambling up the last few rungs. "I just paid a hell of a lot of attention to you and I didn't screw up. I figure that's worth at least fifteen to start with. Don't you agree?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written by request for antares04a, who left the 20,000th comment on my LJ. Prompt: _McShep with a bit of kink. (erotic spanking and/or dubious consent) AMTDI is always a favourite of mine. *g* I also like crossovers with SG-1 (Jack/Daniel) very much._ I must admit this was definitely a challenge for me to write, since I rarely write kink, but I took advantage of it to sneak in my own Trinity fix-it and then it completely changed into less erotica and a lot more angst. Darn muses.


End file.
